The Space between Thirteen and Fourteen
by isumi 'kivic
Summary: Somewhere when they were thirteen or fourteen years old, the realization that they were falling in love was inevitable. They'd work on it, and maybe stay fourteen forever. Tezuka/Fuji. Shounen-ai.


Title: **The Space between Thirteen and Fourteen.**

Author: isumi 'kivic' a.k.a isumi_ilde

Characters/Pairings: TezukaFuji, of course. A dash of Golden Pair and MomoRyouma. Cameos by the rest of Seigaku Regular and members of tennis club. Also, Yuuta, Yumiko and Yoshiko.

Ratings: K+, I think. It's tame. It's about children. And innocence. I swear. *is bricked*

Warnings: This fic contains shounen-ai, BL or whatever you want to call it. Un-beta-ed, so expect grammar errors.

Disclaimer: Tezuka and Fuji belongs to each other, and Konomi-sensei had the absolute right to make them screw each other—one he hasn't yet used, sadly. I only play around with them, and made no money out of this.

A/N: This is dedicated to dearest, darling bluewings_lagoo, whose birthday I'd missed last year. Make this also a belated birthday present for this year, yes? *is shot* I'm sorry I'm late, the midterms nearly ate me alive, but I still survived and finished this, so it's all good, I think. Ahaha. I hope this is up to your standard, dear!

Enjoy.

_A Tennis no Oujisama Fanfiction_

**The Space between Thirteen and Fourteen**

**Nol: Tiga belas.**

He once heard somewhere a line that went something like this:

"A person becomes a teenager when he/she turned thirteen. Thirteen, not twelve. Thir_**teen**_, is the beginning of someone's _**teen**_age times." (1)

They were both teenagers. They were awkward, naïve, feeling like they knew everything when in truth they only knew not even a quarter of something. For them, their doodles on notebooks and white boards were the best masterpieces in the world, even more artistic and beautiful than Van Gogh's or Picasso's. Crimes only meant cutting classes or clubs, or discussing a more elaborate way to cheat on tests and exams. They fought for their prides and waged a Battle Royale for the delicious, popular melon breads and puddings in the cafeteria. Their utmost horror was known as the Valentine's Day, in which they came up with complex strategies to minimize the amount of chocolates they would receive because, not only it was quite troublesome to bring back four or five bags full of chocolates home, it would also be troublesome for them later on White Day for numerous obvious reasons.

They were only thirteen. He hid amused laughter at the girls—oblivious of his inner-devil and blinded by the fake charming smiles he learnt from his sister—trying to catch his attention with high-pitched giggles and heartfelt, simple bento lunches. His captain was more awkward, all politeness through stoic expressions that made the girls swoon over how cool he was. He was thirteen, an age when he just started running out into the real world, eyes wide and excitement pounding in his chest, mind working over _what and why and when and where and how_ everything came to be.

Thirteen, when naïveté and curiosity met confusion and hesitance, blending into awkward excitements in a world that was still much too simple to understand.

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Satu: Proksimitas**.

Fuji couldn't quite recall when exactly his habit of standing next to Tezuka began. Was it before, or after he made friends with Eiji? Was after, or before the senpai injured Tezuka's precious, precious left arm? Was it spring, summer, fall or winter? Was it raining, or was it under the harsh blazing sun?

Yet he kept his place next to Tezuka, not too close that he would invade Tezuka's private space, and not too far that the rest of the club would think he was just coincidentally there. Eventually, the rest of the club seemed to have established that the spot next to Tezuka was Fuji's, and only if Fuji had already stood on Tezuka's one side that you were allowed to stand on his other side.

Fuji found it funny. He'd never claimed that being next to Tezuka was his by right, nor Tezuka ever said anything about giving the spot next to him for Fuji. It was like the others were giving him something that wasn't theirs in the first place—but he wasn't going to complain.

He liked it, being next to Tezuka.

Tezuka was taller, which meant he'd automatically shield Fuji from the scorching summer sun if Fuji stood by his side. Tezuka didn't talk much, and for Fuji, the silence was a welcomed change after listening to Eiji's chatter the whole day. Tezuka was also the first to move when Yamato-buchou assigned something to the first-years, and standing next to him meant Fuji wouldn't miss anything important happening in the club. Being next to Tezuka was convenient for many reasons, and Fuji wasn't about to give that up.

The greatest mystery of all, though, was that if he moved even an inch closer to Tezuka, he would feel weird.

His heartbeat would pick up a pace, and his face would feel somewhat warmer. He'd get urge to stare at everything—_anything_—that was _**not**_ Tezuka. The corners of his lips would twitch and form a much wider smile than usual, which made him look silly, or so Eiji commented once. He didn't quite understand what those meant, other than those being a sign that he was standing too close to Tezuka so he had to move.

Eight point five centimeters, Fuji once calculated. No more, no less. It was the right proximity to stand on Tezuka's side, being neither too close nor too far. It wasn't just about his dislike of feeling weird when he stood too close. This was also about Tezuka turning a questioning gaze and asked if something was wrong in a tone that made Fuji feel akin to a person who had been avoiding another, and was guilty when confronted.

Eight point five centimeters. No more, no less.

It was perfect, because within that proximity, he could still reach out to flick away a stray leaf or cherry blossom petal that had made itself comfortable on Tezuka's hair.

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Dua: Pubertas**

One day in Spring, when the cherry blossom petals rained on the school grounds even though it was early March, Tezuka sprained his right ankle.

"Are you okay, Tezuka-kun?" he knelt before the only first-year regular, while the ever worrying Oishi ran up to tell their newly appointed captain. He lightly poked the injured ankle, earning a sharp hiss and a mighty glare from his friend. It had started to swell a little, and the skin was turning purplish. Chuckling, Fuji held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Sorry. What happened anyway?"

He followed Tezuka's wary eyes, gaze falling upon one innocent, lone single ball on the green-painted ground not a meter away from them.

His laugh broke then, bubbling up his throat in amusement and disbelief, disregarding Tezuka's annoyed glare. His right hand reached out, patting the outer side of Tezuka's thigh where his jersey pants pocket was, feeling only a tennis ball inside. "Did it fall off from here, and you accidentally stepped on it?"

Tezuka made a grunting noise, one that made the corners of his lips twitched up further. "You let your guard down, ne, Tezuka-kun? Ahahaha."

"Fuji, stop making fun of him and help him up," their captain's voice came, underlined with a lazy tone much like Yamato-buchou's, but lacking the firm authority Fuji used to hear in the former captain's voice. "Ryuuzaki-sensei will take care of it, so go back to the club room—it's only a sprained ankle, Oishi, not the end of the world. You don't need to fret like that."

Fuji pursed his lips thoughtfully—it wasn't like he didn't like the current captain, but truthfully, he thought someone could do a much better job. He peeked at Tezuka to see his reaction, but found none. Funny, he thought he could already see through Tezuka's stoicism to at least guess what was on his mind. Apparently he still needed practice in that department.

"Saa, Tezuka-kun," he turned his back towards his friend, and reached his arms back. "Would you like a piggyback ride to the club room?"

Of course, he didn't end up giving Tezuka a piggyback ride, as much as the thought amused him. Their heights and builts did not differ that much, but Tezuka was still heavier. Besides, the weary look Tezuka gave him at the very idea still made both him and Eiji laugh until a week after. It was enough—he liked teasing Tezuka, but that didn't mean he enjoyed embarrassing the older boy. Tezuka was a friend, after all. A precious one at that.

Then, one blistering hot summer day that very same year, Fuji tripped on his table's leg, bumped into a chair next to his, and fell down in an ungraceful heap.

"Are you okay, Fuji?" was the first thing he heard amidst the surprised yells of the girls in class and the dull pain spreading on his ankle. He winced, looked up at Tezuka who was kneeling before him, and felt like it was the weirdest déjà vu, only in a reversed position. A finger reached out to poke his ankle; he hissed menacingly in reflex. The skin was obviously turning purple—his friend should know better than to poke it.

And Tezuka actually had the nerve to look somewhat amused. "You shouldn't have let your guard down."

Fuji's lips thinned. Tezuka was not smiling, no, but the right corner of his lips was a bit higher than the left, which meant he was probably trying his best not to laugh. They'd been friends for almost a year and a half, and classmates for half a year—of course he would notice it. "I'll punch you if you laugh," he warned as his smile turned vicious, irritated. "It does hurt, you know."

And then, Tezuka truly smiled. No, he actually smirked. A thin one, but still.

"Here, I'll give you a piggyback ride to the nurse office."

If he weren't Fuji Shuusuke, his jaw would have dropped to the floor. He thought he made something like a choking noise at Tezuka's suggestion, but even if he did, he wouldn't be able to hear it himself thanks to the giggling and squealing girls behind him.

"No, thank you." He gritted out, still with a smile that turned more dangerous than the previous one. "Help me up, Tezuka."

"It's easier this way. You're much shorter than me, after all." Tezuka countered, and Fuji could have sworn he heard a teasing tone in his friend's voice. He shot a dirty look at Tezuka for the height joke, though. "Or do you prefer to be carried bridal-style?"

In the end, he found himself nestled comfortably on Tezuka's back—all the way down to the nurse office. Fuji wondered when Tezuka's back had gotten so broad and strong, to be able to carry him like this without so much batting an eye. His steps were steady despite the additional weight that was Fuji's body, putting one foot in front of another tediously and making a staccato noise on the corridor floor. The arms keeping Fuji's figure in place barely moved as he made his way through the throngs of students hurrying back to class, so sturdy that Fuji couldn't imagine Tezuka accidentally dropping him. They only stopped once before the stairs, where Tezuka straightened himself—like a pillar that he was in the team, unwavering and steady in front of everyone. It was surprisingly warm, he noted absently, pressing his cheek on Tezuka's shoulder, and carefully breathed his friend's scent.

It made him feel safe.

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Tiga: Realisasi**

One early winter day on their second year, Fuji realized that he had been falling in love.

It wasn't the best time to realize that, actually. He'd been really cold after waiting for nearly two hours outside the hospital, and when Tezuka came out, the stoic youth didn't seem to decide that it was wise to tell Fuji about the true extent of injury of his left arm yet (and no, Fuji wasn't about to confront him about his suspicion). But it was okay; they walked home together after all, even if Tezuka decided that Fuji's questions were silly and didn't seem to want to think even the slightest about it. It was still okay, since Fuji was used to it anyway, but then the first snow fell down and he halted on his steps.

Cerulean eyes drifted and rested on the sturdy figure walking slightly in front of him, and Fuji didn't thought about how beautiful Tezuka was amongst the white powder raining down upon them. He didn't think about how his heart skipped a beat, or how time seemed to be stilling, or how the view before his eyes looked like it was pulled straight out of a painting. He also didn't think how the snowflakes fall down slowly to rest on those unruly strands of hair or how Tezuka's glasses looked like they were fogged up by his breath that came out on small puffs of white smoke around his mouth.

Fuji only thought, _ah, I think I'm in love._

And then he smiled, fascinated by how he seemed to be always surprising himself when it came to Tezuka, because _I could climb to any height if I were with you—_and then he ran to catch up with his friend, opened his black umbrella and spread it above them; eight point five centimeters proximity, still.

It was cold and their surroundings were dyed in depressing black-white-grey combinations, but it was okay. Fuji could find beauty even in black-white-grey or perhaps Tezuka's brown coat or the soft, cold, slowly falling white petals that melt when they touched his hands.

It was okay. He was in love, after all.

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Empat: Malam Natal**

"Christmas Eve," Yumiko said; beautiful face painted artistically with full set of make-ups and slim figure wrapped in fancy, short white-and-red dress, "is a time dedicated for couples. And therefore, I might not come home tonight."

When she was gone, Fuji Shuusuke turned towards his Mother and asked, "If I told you I have a lover, would you let me go out all night, too?"

Yuuta burst out in laughter, while Fuji Yoshiko chuckled in her unique way and told him no, because he was barely fourteen.

"So what if I'm fourteen," he sulked into the phone later, accompanied by the sounds of his pencil scratching the paper. He was sketching a Santa Claus—with the usual white beard and bulky costume, plus a pair of eyes bigger than his ears and fangs poking out of his lips. "I can already go all the way to Chiba by myself. What's wrong with being fourteen, ne, Tezuka?"

From the other end of the line, he could hear Tezuka sigh in a way that was much too alike with the way Yuuta did when he put wasabi into his vanilla ice cream. "What," he said again, this time putting a bit of a defensive tone in his voice. "It's a perfectly valid argument."

"Fuji," Tezuka said, sounding amused. "You're not even four years old yet."

"... Ha ha. You don't get to state how old I am—that's also stealing my line." He ripped the paper, crushed it into a ball and threw it across the room. It bounced twice—once on the wall and once on the floor.

"You said you were fourteen."

"That's not the point." He started over, this time putting a witch hat on Santa's head and a huge jar of Penal Tea in his hand. "It's Christmas, Tezuka, don't you want to go out?" _With me_, he nearly added, but wisely refrained from doing so because being fourteen did not justify loving your own, very male best friend.

It was silent for several moments on the other line. Then: "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know—just walking around the town? Look for that huge Christmas tree at the town square, or watch the parade?" His pencil worked out a doodle of an odd-looking reindeer next to the Santa, and added two evil glints on its eyes. "It's Christmas—people are out for lots of reasons."

"… Alright," Tezuka said, and Fuji thought he could hear a hint of smile. "Tell your Mother I'll be over in fifteen minutes. Let's go to the church."

"What." Fuji said.

"We won't go out all night, but it would be enough to ease your boredom."

Fuji felt his stomach lurched—in an oddly good way.

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Lima: Afeksi**

But still—the church?

"Since when are Tezuka-kun's family Christian?" Yoshiko blinked, and her son shrugged. Then the doorbell rang, and he fled out of the door with his coat and gloves in hand, his mother yelling to be careful and not to come back too late and to give Tezuka-kun her love.

"Mother said to be careful and not to come back too late," he said when his door house was closed behind him. Then he cringed, "And that she loves you."

"Fuji-obaasan is very kind," Tezuka replied politely, watching as Fuji struggled to wear his coat. He took away the gloves then, so Fuji could button his coat easily, before handing them back for Fuji to wear. Gesturing to the road, he said, "The church's not that far, so we'll just walk."

"Is it the one up on the hill?"

Tezuka didn't answer, but there was no need—he was already walking to the direction Fuji meant anyway. Fuji followed—as he always did, he thought absently, catching up to Tezuka's side to walk eight point five centimeters away. It didn't snow on Christmas Eve this year—Fuji could barely remember the last time he witnessed a white Christmas, but he supposed it was alright. Being fourteen years old boys that they were, their parents would probably not let them go out on Christmas Eve if it was snowing.

The church was just up ahead and there were several kids running down the street; lyrics of Christmas carols flew out of their mouths in absurd notes. One of the little girls stopped to greet Tezuka, who took a moment to nod and actually ruffle her hair before continuing on his way.

"Eeeh, so Tezuka can be affectionate to girls," Fuji murmured, just loud enough for his captain to stop and turned a raised eyebrow towards him. A silvery laugh escaped Fuji's lips as he halted right next to Tezuka and gazed into those hazel orbs that had captivated people with its firm look. "What? I've never seen you ruffle someone's hair before, Tezuka."

"You made it sound like I can't be affectionate," Tezuka shook his head, half in exasperation. It wasn't like it ceased Fuji's teasing, though, because the next thing the Tensai said was this:

"Ah, really. That's because I don't think you've ever done anything affectionate to me."

Fuji wasn't thinking. Not when he said it, nor after he said it. It was a joke—a stupid one that usually made Eiji snort and kept him in a deadlock just because last summer he grew taller than Fuji. He expected Tezuka's eyebrow to rise higher and for his captain to scold him for making suggestive jokes—but the thing was, Tezuka never did.

He did, though, sigh and shake his head again, then took his left hand and held it loosely.

Christmas was a night for couples, Yumiko had said. So Fuji took two seconds to hesitate, before tightening his fingers and stepped closer to the warmth that was Tezuka.

When their steps finally continued, Fuji swung their hands back and forth like a little child.

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Enam: Antiklimaks.**

There was this huge cherry blossom tree behind the church up on the hill. In spring, it painted the air pink with the fluttering petals riding the wind. In summer, it provided the much-needed place to cool off: shading those resting underneath and calling forth the gentle wind with its waving leaves. In autumn, it created a scenic background view for the church as the leaves turned brown and red and the dried ones covered the ground. Now, in winter, it gave off an aura of elegance, draped by the thick snow as it stood majestically on the hill that overlooked the city alight with thousands little glow. It was Christmas, after all, and the place took Fuji's breath away.

"Funny," he commented. "Everything looks so beautiful from up here, but in reality, they aren't necessarily as pretty."

Tezuka let go of their joined hands, took a step towards the tree, and said, "Let's climb up."

So they did—Fuji following the captain's lead as usual. The tree was strong and sturdy, thick branches making it easier for them to make their ways up. The snow on several of the branches fell down sometimes, raining them with soft white flakes and drew tinkling laughter from Fuji. Before long, Tezuka was offering his hand—which Fuji took without hesitation this time—and then he was pulling Fuji up to settle down on one of the branch. They sat side by side, looking down towards the lights spread under them down in the bustling city.

"When I was a child," Tezuka said, eyes intent on the magnificent view before them. "My family came here often."

Fuji tilted his head. "I didn't know that you're Christian."

"No, we aren't. One of the priests here was an old family friend of my Grandfather. He used to invite us for dinner around Christmas here."

There was a teasing tone in Fuji's voice now. "You guys had dinner up on this tree?"

"Actually, under the tree. Like a night picnic—it was Mother's idea. Father climbed up with me whenever we came here."

"Night picnic—sounds fun. We should do it some time with the others, too, Buchou."

Their conversation lapsed slowly into silence, as the two fourteen-year-old boys seemed to be hypnotized by the sparkling, colorful lights of the city celebrating the one-year holiday. It painted yellow and soft red on the edges of Fuji's vision when he blinked. It was cold, and the branch they sat on was quite slippery that Fuji knew they couldn't afford to not be careful if they didn't want to fall off. But it was okay, because Tezuka was right next to him and he was warm and before he knew it, his hand seeked Tezuka's to clasp down on it gently.

Tezuka turned his head slightly, warm hazel gaze fell on to his face.

Christmas Eve was a night dedicated to couples, Fuji recalled, and he remembered some of those cheesy manga Yumiko showed to him months ago. Couples held hands, Yumiko told him brightly, and also held each other when they needed to keep warm and close. Oh, and they also kissed.

Fuji wondered if he had suddenly turned into a moron when his lips moved—cerulean eyes locked into hazel ones—"Ne, Tezuka, want to try kissing?"

Tezuka didn't turn bright red like the girl in that shoujo manga, and neither did Fuji. But he thought he could hear their hearts pounding hard, echoing in his ears and making him somewhat lightheaded. Tezuka's face was too close, lines blurring thanks to the minimum proximity between them as warm breath fell upon his nose and Fuji decided that closing his eyes might be the best thing to do.

Except it wasn't, because their noses bumped.

Tezuka grunted, and Fuji heard himself say "ouch…" in a small, weak voice. There was a moment of silence in which he opened his eyes—Tezuka's face still too close and eyes wide behind those glasses—and suddenly a hand took hold of his chin, tilting it sideways, before something soft gently touched his lips.

That was kind of anti-climactic, Fuji thought, but felt giddy nonetheless.

It was kind of weird—their position required them to twist sideways a little bit, and Fuji could feel Tezuka's glasses digging uncomfortably into his cheek. His right hand found Tezuka's arm and held on tight for fear of slipping off the branch, and he felt acutely aware of everything—Tezuka's soft, slightly chafed lips, Tezuka's finger on his chin, Tezuka's soft breath, Tezuka's warmth, Tezuka, Tezuka, Tezuka—

When they parted, and Fuji bumped their foreheads together, there was a slight smile on Tezuka's face. And then Fuji wondered if his grin looked stupid to his friend.

"Thank you for tonight, Tezuka. It's really fun."

"Likewise," Tezuka replied, and even with the slightly uncomfortable position, they stayed like that for another ten minutes.

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Tujuh: Hatsumode**

Contrary to what Eiji and the others might believe, Fuji never really did like Hatsumode.

It wasn't that he hated it, he just didn't quite like it. He'd rather stay home after eating his mother's special New Year's soba; curled up under the kotatsu reading The Little Prince for the umpteenth time while listening to the television just so he wouldn't miss which team was going to win this year. But Yuuta and Yumiko loved Hatsumode: Yuuta for the merriment and the prospect of meeting his friends at night, and Yumiko for the excitement of omikuji.

And if his siblings wanted to go, who was he to deny? After all, he loved Yuuta and Yumiko's smiling faces more than anything.

He didn't hate Hatsumode, he just didn't quite like it. There were too many people walking around; the lights in the temple grounds were sometimes too blinding against the stark darkness of midnight, there were too many kids running around and bumping into everything and everyone, and the escalating noises that sometimes were just too much for him to bear. It didn't help that people—including his own family—crowded the temple for the very same reason: praying. This meant he was also stuck in the crowd: one hand holding Yuuta's and another grasping the sleeve of Yumiko's kimono so they wouldn't be separated.

"Aniki," Yuuta said, after some time of waiting in line for their turn to pray. "I think I saw Tezuka-san."

Against his will, his ears perked up. "Where?"

"Oh, I see them too, Shuusuke," Yumiko, still the tallest between the three of them, stood on her toes and peered forward. "Way in front of us—no, I think they're in the very front. Ah, he's praying now."

There was no way he could call out to Tezuka—it was too far and he wouldn't want to bother everyone else. They had come to pray, after all. Fuji's lips thinned a little because Tezuka's family seemed to just disappear after Yumiko and Yuuta spotted them before, and they were still stuck in the damn line.

When it was his turn, Fuji threw in his hundred yen coin, clapped his hand and wished he would get taller. Bigger. He wished he could be a boy like Tezuka: broad shoulders and sturdy back and tall like a pillar that he was. He wished for Tezuka's left arm, too, and for the tennis club to get stronger so that they would reach the Nationals.

Next to him, Yuuta moved away, apparently finished.

Fuji scrunched up his face, thought some more about being in love with Tezuka and wishing it would go well. As an afterthought, he added some wishes about wanting good grades and some money for vacation. Then he moved aside, letting the next person take his place, and ran to catch up with Yuuta.

Except that Tezuka's voice halted him on his track.

"I thought I saw you on the back just before I prayed," was the first thing Tezuka said as he came closer—breaths coming in white puffs, and the low temperature tinted his face a bit red even as half of his face was hidden behind the thick white scarf he was wearing. Fuji blinked, taking in his friend's appearance. Was Tezuka—?

He hesitantly asked, "Were you waiting for me?"

"Since I saw you, yes." The curt answer came readily, but it didn't fail to send warmth through his whole being—including his face. "Did you come with your siblings?"

The Tensai ducked his face, trying to suppress the warmth crawling. How silly, getting all flustered just because Tezuka waited out for him even though it was really cold. Tezuka was saying something about his family, but his words were hovering in the air and Fuji couldn't quite grasp what they were. So he cleared his throat, and said one word: "Omikuji."

Tezuka paused on his steps. "I'm sorry?"

"Omikuji," Fuji said again, louder this time, and when he raised his head, his usual smile was back in place, even if it was at least two millimeters wider than usual. "Let's go get our fortunes for this year, Tezuka."

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Delapan: Fortuna**

He was called a Tensai for many reasons. But Fuji himself liked to believe that at least one-fourth of his success in everything he did was because he was a very lucky person.

"Tezuka," he flashed the stoic captain his strip of omikuji, looking proud. "Daikichi."

"Congratulations," Tezuka said simply, folding his own omikuji without so much a reaction after reading his fortune for the year. Fuji frowned as he watched his friend pocketed the strip of paper. He might not really like Hatsumode, but with Yumiko as your sister, it was hard not to appreciate fortunes. But he knew there was no reason to nag Tezuka about it either, so he settled on looking back at his omikuji and said, "I wonder if this means my wishes this year would come true."

"You will still need to work for them. Don't let your guard down."

"If Neesan hears you, she'll scold you for not appreciating omikujis." Fuji glanced back towards Yumiko, who seemed to be engrossed in writing her wish on one of the emas. He knew Yuuta was meeting up with some of his friends somewhere, so he supposed in the meantime it was alright to stay with Tezuka. The other boy's family seemed to be well-acquaintance with the temple's head of priests, according to his captain, and had gone to give their New Year's greetings.

"What did you wish for this year? Ah, let me guess," the honey-haired boy chuckled, waving his hand. "I bet you wished for us to win the Nationals, right?"

"That," Tezuka admitted, and Fuji wondered if his friend's gaze softened a little, "and some other things."

There was a moment of silence in which Fuji thought whether Tezuka was implying something even though his face was as straight as ever. The air was cold, he could see the white puffs of their breaths when they talked, and despite there were so many people swarming around them, Fuji was tempted to take Tezuka's hand and pulled him for a peck on the lips.

He didn't do it, though.

Instead he tugged lightly at Tezuka's scarf to bring him down gently and pressed his lips upon his friend's right cheek.

For a moment, he thought Tezuka was going to push him away and scold him. For a moment, he thought he would hear his sister's voice berating him for public display of affection, or another adult's disgusted voice reprimanding him about norms and how wrong it was to kiss your very male best friend. For a moment he thought a priest would approach him and kicked him off the temple grounds for kissing someone in a sacred ground.

Then he realized that none of it happened, and Tezuka's hand was suddenly on his, tentatively lacing their fingers together.

Fuji laughed, between relief and pure happiness, and said, "I hope I hadn't just used up my whole fortune for this year."

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Sembilan: Interval**

"The Sakura blossoms are beautiful ne, Tezuka."

There wasn't any answer—not that Fuji expected one.

"It's a pity they're short-lived." He continued anyway as he kept his gaze outside the club room's windows, knowing that Tezuka was listening to each and every word carefully. It was because the two of them never said anything in actual words—those coming out of their mouths were always seemingly meaningless, at least to others. To them, what was meant to say were only conveyed through gestures and tones and things between the lines. It was more convenient that way—Tezuka wasn't a man of words, while Fuji was simply a liar.

"Ah, but they say Sakura blossoms are beautiful because there are corpses buried underneath."

The sounds of tennis balls hitting the green court reverberated to every single corners of the court, adding a certain timbre to Eiji's cheerful, endless chattering. Fuji thought if he tried to close his eyes, maybe he could hear the symphony of spring hanging in the air—the rustling leaves, the sounds of first years that signified the beginning of another year, the echoing footsteps as the other Regulars did another round of laps around the court, the whispers of the wind, and the gentle sound of breath from above him when Tezuka dropped a hesitant kiss on the top of his head.

"Let's go, Fuji."

Where the captain went, he followed. It was the rule. He liked to see and struggled to reach Tezuka's back, after all.

He smiled, and exhaled a long, contented sigh into the air. "It's very peaceful this year, isn't it?"

Tezuka paused in his steps and glanced back.

"Yes," he replied, and Fuji was glad that he waited for the Tensai to reach his side before continuing their journey out of the club room. "It's a good place to begin."

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Sepuluh: Insekuritas.**

"Fu-ji-ko," Eiji said absently, leaning back further to rest his whole weight onto Fuji's back. Fuji thought Eiji was lucky his body was nearly as slender as the Tensai's, or Fuji would have refused flat out to be treated as an impromptu bed. Nonetheless he gave a soft hum, letting Eiji know that he was listening—because Eiji wasn't Tezuka and if he didn't at least indicate that Eiji wasn't talking to a wall, the redhead would nag him endlessly.

Oddly, it was one of the thing that made him very fond of his best friend.

"Do you think Oishi really like me?"

That gave Fuji a start. Because really, only the Golden Pair could act openly affectionate and touchy-feely without even a stranger batting an eye. There was nearly no reason for Eiji to feel insecure—or was there?

"It'd be strange if he didn't, Eiji," he tried, imploring his best friend to elaborate. "He's always worrying about you, isn't he?"

"Hnnn…" this time, the redhead positively whined, as he dropped his head onto Fuji's shoulder. Tilting his head slightly, the honey-haired boy could see his best friend's lower lip jutting out in a pout. "But Oishi worries about everybody. It's just in his nature."

"He worries about you the most."

"You don't understand, Fujiko."

"No, I think I understand," Fuji smiled. It was silly of Eiji to be insecure just because he thought Oishi treated everybody the same way. The vice-captain was a mother hen, true. But Eiji was different. "It's in his nature to care and worry about people, yes. But Eiji, has he ever touched and talked to any other people the way he talked to you?"

There was no answer, but Fuji had enough exercise of talking to a brick wall-like Tezuka, so it didn't matter.

"Or simpler yet, has he ever let anyone else tackled him from behind like you always do?"

Silence was a familiar companion for Fuji, but when he was with Eiji, it became a stranger. Not to mention that it was actually odd enough to see Eiji's usual cheerful expression turned into a solemn, thoughtful one. Fuji chuckled, but refrained from commenting at all.

Because as silly as it sounded, insecurity was always a constant companion to him when it came to his relationship with Tezuka.

He knew that what he said would not make Eiji feel better. He only gave something logical so Eiji could have something to convince himself that he was loved. But logic and emotions are different things—and while one could pretend to control the other, in reality not one of them could overrule the other. Even though his logic told him that there was no way Tezuka would kiss him if he didn't like him, his emotions still wouldn't settle to rest, because Tezuka never really did say that he liked Fuji, did he?

"Sometimes," he said, purposefully slipping in an enigmatic tone into his voice, "we're just so desperate to tighten the ties between us. Sometimes even I think maybe it's better to have us chained, and forgot that piano strings are even stronger than chains. Maybe that's why we're scared."

Eiji tilted his head, looking confused.

"It's alright," the Tensai smiled, raising a hand to ruffle Eiji's hair. "There's no end to it if you keep thinking about it. Think of it as part of being in love, Eiji."

"Ugh," the redhead made a face. "What are you, a girl? Honestly, Fujiko."

Fuji grinned, inwardly admitting that he did sound like his sister when she was in her period and helplessly in love with the older guy next door. He shifted, and Eiji chose to drop half of his upper body onto his lap, sighing in a tired way Fuji had never heard before. It was weird, he mused, the way people changed when they were in love. He wondered if Eiji thought that he changed, too.

"Sorry, Fujiko," Eiji's voice was muffled, for the redhead was hiding his face into Fuji's knee. "But I think I often get really jealous of Tezuka."

Fuji was about to laugh and admit that he often felt so towards Oishi, too, but the corner of his eyes caught several figures hovering not far from the tree where he and Eiji sat under. Four or five people—members of student councils, it seemed, but two particular figures were blatantly staring at him and Eiji, despite still paying attention to what the rest of the group were saying.

Instead of laughing, he let an amused smile crept up onto his face.

"I think," he tapped Eiji's shoulder, and when his friend looked up, he gestured towards where Tezuka and Oishi both stood looking at them, "that they're probably getting jealous of us, too."

Eiji scrambled off Fuji's lap, turning around so fast Fuji was amazed he didn't fall off, before excitedly waving his arms at the captain and the vice-captain. Fuji thought there was somewhat a relieved look on Oishi's face when he laughed and waved back at Eiji, while Tezuka's expression took an exasperated one, but Fuji knew his gaze softened nonetheless.

It was a wonderful feeling, Fuji thought, to fall in love at the age of fourteen.

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Sebelas: Lima Tahun.**

Regardless, they were boys. And because they were boys, no matter how old they were, they tended to revert back to their real age when it came to the matters of hearts. Which was about five years old.

"Are you sulking, Echizen?"

It was quite rare for him to sit next to the only first year Regular member, instead of standing next to Tezuka watching the Golden Pair facing off Inui and Kaidou. Echizen was a person who usually never wanted to know or had anything to do with the world around him unless tennis was involved or he really had to. It was probably why Fuji's inner-devil was tickled when he saw Echizen sitting with a slightly disgruntled look on his face.

"No," ah, and the shorter boy actually snapped. Fuji raised an amused eyebrow, and let his smile widened when Echizen's eyes flicked towards Tezuka's side before glancing back at Fuji. "What are you doing here, Fuji-senpai?"

"But I'm concerned. After all, our Ochibi looks angry."

"No I don't." Echizen scowled, but then he took the towel in his lap and buried his face into the white fabric. Fuji swore something in him just positively danced in glee.

He let a moment of silence, turning over in his minds the possibilities of what might frustrate his underclassman. Surely it wasn't tennis—Echizen prowess was still admirable and he had just crushed another second-year not an hour ago. It couldn't be lack of Ponta, either, for there was two unopened cans right next to him. Did he have a fight with other members of the club? The first year trio seemed to be just fine hanging out around the disgruntled tennis genius just a while ago, and Fuji knew Echizen didn't really have a good relationship with the second years.

The Regulars were close, sure, but Fuji would know if any of the third years were having a disagreement with any members of the club.

"Speaking of which, I haven't seen Momo at practice lately."

Echizen's shoulders stiffened; Fuji's mind shouted a '_**score**_!'

"Do you know what he's been up to, Echizen?"

"The idiot," it was really amusing, seeing the usually nonchalant first year had to grit the words out of his mouth. "Could just go die."

Fuji gave a soft hum. "Did you have a lovers' spat?"

It was a joke, really. He didn't expect the underclassman's face to actually turn an interesting shade of red and—wait, wait, really? Now that was news. He watched, amused, as Echizen once again buried his face into his towel in order to hide his burning face, and decided to comment, "Echizen, your ears are also red."

"Shut up, Fuji-senpai." But two hands were already moving the towel to cover the red ears. Fuji let out a chuckle, and ruffled Echizen's hair. How interesting. He might just have gotten a possible topic that could lead to a perfect blackmail material if he could get his hands on further information about this. So he stood, leaving the flustered first year to walk back and take his place next to Tezuka back.

"You know," he murmured softly, "I think we would need a Cupid. Maybe I'm going to be one, with Eiji's help."

There was a certain tension in Tezuka's face that drained away when Fuji returned to his side, but the Tensai wasn't sure if it was only his imagination. "Were you bullying Echizen?"

"You know I don't do that," he chastised Tezuka playfully, letting their arms brush slightly. "How is the match going?"

"They'll still need practice to get to our Golden Pair level," Tezuka nodded towards Inui and Kaidou, looking thoughtful. "But I think we might just find another strong double combination."

"That's very nice. Then you could stop scowling whenever I get into the court with Taka-san."

"I do not."

"Of course you do."

-o0oTezukaFujio0o-

**Dua Belas: Empat Belas**

They were fourteen years old. They had a whole life waiting in front of them: a bright future sparkling with possibilities they had yet taken. For them, everything was still shaping—clumsy hands trying to mold the future into a perfect shape. There were mistakes; most of the times, they made mistakes that felt like it was the end of the world. But the world still moved about, turning round and gave them chances to get it right.

Fuji had taken Tezuka's hands at some point, trying to shape their future together. They were different people—Tezuka had to go away lots of times, and Fuji had to let go, but that was necessary. There were parts of the future they had to shape by themselves in order to keep their bond strong. There were smiles and lies, but the way Tezuka pressed his lips upon Fuji's before boarding his plane to Kyuushu was honest, and Fuji couldn't not shed a tear.

But that was okay. It was part of being in love at the age of fourteen. And maybe he'd stay fourteen forever, even as he matured and got older. Maybe the anxiety and insecurity would be forever instilled in him, as well as the giddiness and the familiar feeling of elation whenever he betrayed the eight point five proximity between him and Tezuka.

But he wanted it to be Tezuka.

That was okay, too, since he'd work for it. Instead of a chain, he would weave a piano string stronger than anything else, tying one end on his little finger, and the other end on Tezuka's. And he'd make every single day a new beginning—to shape and reshape everything, to reach out and hold on.

After all, he was _already_ fourteen. It wasn't enough just to dream.

-o0ofinitoo0o-

A/N: Translations for the captions of drabbles I used in Bahasa:

Nol: Tiga Belas (Zero: Thirteen)

Satu: Proksimitas (One: Proximity)

Dua: Pubertas (Two: Puberty)

Tiga: Realisasi (Three: Realization)

Empat: Malam Natal (Four: Christmas Eve)

Lima: Afeksi (Five: Affection)

Enam: Antiklimaks (Six: Anticlimax)

Tujuh: Hatsumode (Seven: Hatsumode)

Delapan: Fortuna (Eight: Fortunes)

Sembilan: Interval (Nine: Interval)

Sepuluh: Insekuritas (Ten: Insecurity)

Sebelas: Lima Tahun (Eleven: Five Years Old)

Dua Belas: Empat Belas (Twelve: Fourteen)

Last but not least, credits:

This line originally comes from the book written by lj user="a1y-puff". I couldn't remember the exact line, but it went something like that.

This fic is very much inspired by the works of Bikke, and particularly the TeFu doujin titled 'Fourteen'. It's a very cute one, go read! xD

I sweat I meant to write five drabbles, but it kind of exploded. That's why it's so late. ;A; Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and I'd love to read some comments after you read? It's been a while since my last TeFu fic, I hope I'm not getting rusty. Urk xDDDD

Again, Happy Birthday, bluewings_lagoo! May the force of TeFu always be with you!


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